Starting Small

“It’s mud season.” That statement is not profound, but it was met once by the response, “What did you say? Mud season?” Yes, indeed, that’s exactly what I said.

For those who do not live in the hinterland, mud season is not a thing. I’d forgotten since mud season in the hinterland happens like clockwork every year…just like time change. And for those forward-looking souls it’s followed by dust season, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

We are starting small this year, but we have been starting small for years now. Seed starting is the smallest of starts, literally. The seed order was placed in January which is the earliest we’ve ever gotten that act together. A variety here and there was unavailable much like in previous years but overall we got what we asked for.

Racks have been reassembled with grow lights, soilless mix has been packed into cells, packed cells have been placed into trays, seeds have been sown and watered lightly from above and more heavily from below. It’s choreography that rivals the artistry of the principal dancer in ballet except without the grace and beauty.

What we lack in grace and beauty we make up for in patience and hopefulness. Will the seeds germinate? We don’t know what will happen. We don’t know when what will happen will happen. We wait, we breathe (plants need carbon dioxide, correct?) We make sure lights are on, we check soil temperature, we look at the little plastic sticks we use to label what seeds are hidden from view like checking box scores or financial statements. It’s a brassica, it should have germinated by now! Those are the tomatoes, any signs of germination yet? Half the tray has germinated and half has not, what’s going on with that? But the seeds don’t give up any of their secrets and we continue waiting and watching and hoping and looking for any sign of germination.

AND THEN IT HAPPENS…we see something! It’s the hypocotyl barely breaking the surface, bent double, so delicate, so green. It’s a miracle (and a relief) every time for every seed we start. The miracle never gets old, the mystery is never solved.

Now we wait for the first true leaves……and the end of mud season.